


Memento

by stuffilikeiwrite



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Ahsoka Tano Needs a Hug, Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Angst, Brother-Sister Relationships, Canon Compliant, Darth Vader Needs a Hug, Gen, Human Disaster Anakin Skywalker, Other, POV Ahsoka Tano, POV Anakin Skywalker, POV Darth Vader, Post-Order 66 (Star Wars), Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:15:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27647357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stuffilikeiwrite/pseuds/stuffilikeiwrite
Summary: She reached out, but found nothing as if grasping at straws. Emptiness, and a raw wound where their connection had been bluntly severed. Anakin would never purposely shut her out, never willingly break their bond. That left only one option.
Relationships: Ahsoka Tano & Darth Vader, Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano
Comments: 10
Kudos: 67





	Memento

Ahsoka regarded the saber in her hand. Smudged, dented. Its weight sodden against her palm, a sombre reminder of what was no more. As the dust settled around her, the crudely painted helmets of her squad served as the only reminder of what had transpired. Jesse, loyal til the end. Forced to kill his friends, willing to die because of one fatal final order. Behind her, she felt Rex’s forlorn eyes on her. The smell of embers and ashes burned her nostrils, the crackling of burning wires and melting durasteel dying away with the winds mournful wail. 

What was to become of her now? The saber was her only tie to her roots, to her legacy. Was she to remain a fugitive forever? If the Jedi had all been targeted, surely any stragglers would be hunted down.

The saber. Her last tie to the order. To her upbringing, her religion, her family. To Anakin. Anakin, who had saved both her weapons; hopeful, perhaps naively so, that she would return to the Jedi. To him. Where she belonged. Anakin, who had been so excited to see her again. Anakin, who had eagerly approached her only for her to shoot him down. Anakin, who was only going to save the Chancellor, to finally end the war. The war was over, but at what cost? Was Anakin even still alive? There were so many things she’d meant to tell him, how she wished she’d left master Yoda with a message. He had inquired, and yet she’d hesitated.

What about Maul’s supposed visions? Anakin was groomed to be the Sith Lord’s new apprentice. Darth Sidious. The Chancellor, now Emperor. No. Anakin was kind, and good, and brave. He’d never fall so far, never stoop so low. Ahsoka refused to even entertain the idea, refused to imagine a world in which invincible Anakin could succumb to darkness. She’d felt his despair, she’d felt the shrill cry through the Force. She’d sensed his conflict, his fear, his pain - and then he was gone. 

She reached out, but found nothing as if grasping at straws. Emptiness, and a raw wound where their connection had been bluntly severed. Anakin would never purposely shut her out, never willingly break their bond. That left only one option.

Sighing, body sore, aching and weary from the struggle to survive; Ahsoka admired the saber. Where its twin had disappeared to, she couldn’t say. Lost somewhere in the turmoil, as she and Rex fought tooth and nail to persevere. Once its blade had been a vibrant green, now a royal blue. Anakin’s doing. She hadn’t minded. It had felt like a gesture of affection, of appreciation. Something to tie her closer to her former master, the man who had become like her older brother. Closer to Obi-Wan, too. 

What about him? Had he managed to get to Anakin in time? She couldn’t sense him either, the Dark Side streaming through the living Force like an infection, like a festering, deadly disease. Rotting all that was good and warm away, leaving her to fumble blind in the vast darkness of infinity.

Ahsoka stroked the pad of her thumb over the ignition button, faltering for a moment. The saber had been a gift, a token. It was her life, as Anakin had once said - something he, in turn, had been taught by Obi-Wan. Still, if she kept it as a memento, allowing it to be a weakness, it may do more harm than good. A lightsaber was a Jedi’s weapon, and as far as she was aware, all Jedi must die. If she left the saber, perhaps - if it were found - she would be presumed dead? Swallowing stubbornly against the ball of unshed tears lodged in her throat, she took in the weight of the saber that had saved her life uncountable times in her hand. Allowed herself to think of Anakin, of how she owed her life to him. Of how she wished she’d been able to come to his aid. They were supposed to have more time.

Hand going limp, Ahsoka let the saber hilt fall to the rough ground with a dull, metallic clunking noise. It rolled over and came to a skidded halt, and she shut her eyes tightly together; lips pursed with the last of her resolve. The Jedi were gone. The Republic was gone. The clones, the entire 332nd wiped out in an instant. Master Yoda, Master Plo, Master Sinube, Master Kenobi.

_Anakin._

Tipping her head back, Ahsoka’s chin quivered as she regarded the billowing smoke spilling from the ruins of the star destroyer that had become the tomb of her friends. The tomb of her past, of her present; of her reality. She felt the burn behind her eyes, the bridge of her nose red hot and prickly. It wasn’t supposed to end like this. Blinking rapidly, she slowly shifted to turn her back on the rows of graves she and Rex had dug for his brothers. Their brothers. Avoiding another glance at the carnage, at her discarded Jedi identity, she let the makeshift cemetery fade away in the distance. She was alone now, and so was Rex. Perhaps the last of the Jedi, as well as the last clone with his free will intact - the only clone without Jedi blood on his hands.

At least they were alone together. As she dragged her feet up to join Rex by the beat up bomber that had become their saving grace, his bruised face seemed hollow. His half smile was weak, dishonest. An attempt at calming her, at reassuring her. Watching his hollow dark eyes, still glassy as he mourned his fallen brothers; she caved. Warm, salty tears rolled down her cheeks as she hid her face in her trembling hands and cried.

****

Vader regarded the saber in his hand. It was smaller, lighter than he remembered it. Frail, fragile. Snow and ice clinging to its freezing durasteel exterior; even as he used a still somewhat clumsy hand to brush it off. It gleamed in the cold sunlight, air crisp with the howling of the wind. The Jedi had meant for this specific saber to be a gift, and a plea. A plea for his lost padawan to return to him, to the Jedi order. The Jedi had been cowards, traitors and liars. A sect, envious of The Jedi’s powers, of his capabilities, of his potential. They had been foolish, and naive. Backwards, stuck in a bygone era. The padawan had been the first to fall by the wayside, their first oversight, their first sacrifice. The Jedi had tried to dissuade her, begging her to stay. He hadn’t betrayed her, he’d believed in her innocent. He’d been the one to clear her name. Still, she abandoned him. Still, she thought only of herself.

The Jedi couldn’t be blamed for the order, and their hubris. But the padawan had been his responsibility. He had failed her, just as his old master had failed him. A lineage of tragedy. The padawan wasn’t a Jedi, not anymore. Still, the lone saber and its dented, damaged exterior spoke a painful truth where it lay discarded among the wreckage of a republic star destroyer. Lonely, forgotten. Left behind. 

The padawan would never let it go, would never willingly abandon such an important part of her identity. If she had lived, it would have brought her comfort, reminding her of The Jedi - a foolish young man that Vader refused to admit was all too present. His ghost, and the mistakes he’d made, haunting his nightmares; his every waking moment imprisoned by the chains he himself had forged. The padawan would want to keep the saber, to remember her master as he was - unaware of what he had become.

Shifting, Vader took the dainty saber hilt awkwardly in both hands, silently admiring its familiar silhouette as he flicked the ignition. The blue blade appeared with the expected hiss, slightly wobbly but intact. The padawan’s eyes had spoken of her gratitude when she’d accepted it; taking the gift The Jedi had reserved only for her. He’d hoped she may return, even when his master had half convinced him to give up. Perhaps it had been a self indulgent decision to change the colour from green to blue, the work it had taken not insignificant. It had felt like an homage, a sign of respect. A way for the padawan to remember him, wherever she may wander.

Vader hadn’t executed the order. The Jedi would have maintained the belief that the padawan might have survived, his naivety a luxury Vader could not afford. He knew better. Time had gone by in a flash, and yet it seemed to drag painfully slowly on. The padawan was no Jedi, but it wouldn’t have mattered to the clones. The Jedi would have rushed to find her remains, urgent to locate her final resting place. As Vader gazed solemnly at the snow covered ruins that marked the padawans grave, reaching out one final time with an uncertainty - fearful, perhaps of his master’s ire, perhaps of what he may find - all he could grasp was emptiness. A piercing, sullen nothingness as he stared wordlessly at the sky through the red tinted lenses of his face plate.

When the war is over, The Jedi had thought. The padawan was to go to Mandalore, to capture Maul. He was to go to Coruscant, to rescue the Chancellor. The Sith Lord. Palpatine. Peace, he had fought for. Peace was all he’d ever wanted. Peace, as he left the order behind. Peace, as he and Padmé raised their baby on Naboo, by the lake as she had wished. His old master perhaps visiting, being the brother and father The Jedi had blindly sought approval and praise from. Prosperity. The padawan returned to the life where she belonged. 

As snow crystals danced past his vision, the heavy cape he wore following the same silent tune; Vader turned off the saber. Another soft hiss, and he clutched the weapon harshly; feeling the durasteel creak and protest against the might of the mechno that had replaced his dismembered limbs. The padawan was gone, there was no other explanation.

Why had he needed the confirmation to begin with? The Jedi and his past meant nothing to him. The padawan and her sarcastic remarks, her coy expression, her jests and jabs. A hand on his shoulder for support, the way she spoke The Jedi’s name when she was concerned for his well being - a scowl on her face, her lips pursed. Perhaps it was for the best. She would never need to come to terms with the events that had triggered the purge, would never be forced to reevaluate her perception of her master. He would forever remain a beacon of hope, a hero, someone to look up to. The Jedi would remain untainted in her mind, for she was no longer alive to learn the truth.

Vader glanced down at the saber still in his grip, almost fully engulfed by his large, gloved hand. He should leave it were he found it, it was of no use to him. Still, he found himself unable to let the weapon go. Opening his hand; he regarded the thin, jagged dents and scrapes travelling along its once pristine surface. A melancholy swept over him, making his stomach churn and he snarled silently at his own weakness. He was better than this; he was stronger than The Jedi. He would not succumb to sentimentality, would not falter. Where had that left him? Anger simmering just beneath the surface, bitter and infernal; Vader turned his back on the poetic scenery. 

Still, as he trudged back the way he had come through the snow - he held in his hand the lightsaber that had once belonged to _Ahsoka Tano_.

****

**Author's Note:**

> I got feels after watching the mastercut of Revenge of the Sith and The Siege of Mandalore remastered into one movie, and I was reminded once again of the painful ending of TCW. Hence, I wanted to write a little fic dedicated to it - also first new fic I write and post since I was banned from my old acc. Anyway, enjoy - if you can call it that!
> 
> Tumblr link below:  
> https://stuffilikeipostno2.tumblr.com/post/635339457262927872/memento-ahsoka-and-vaders-thoughts-at-the-end


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